


Three Days

by emiv



Series: Companion Pieces to The Longer You Stay [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, Miscommunication, Nolanverse!Robins, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiv/pseuds/emiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce hadn’t planned for this. <span class="small">(Set during Chapter 13 of <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/710551/chapters/1313489">The Longer You Stay</a></i> )</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to [Chapter 13](http://archiveofourown.org/works/710551/chapters/1538193) of [The Longer You Stay](http://archiveofourown.org/works/710551/chapters/1313489).

Bruce sat unmoving at the top of the stairs. The sun streamed around him through large windows, casting shadows across the floors, down the stairs. The house felt empty. Quiet.

Selina had left before sunrise.

_Left,_ he thought, still wrapping his head around it. _Gone._

Bruce had watched her leave, watched the door close behind her. Her words came back to him as the sun rose. They echoed in his mind, filling up all the space in his head.

_I can’t do this,_ she’d said. 

But he hadn’t listened. He hadn’t seen.

He saw now.

Not that it mattered.

A door down the hall opened; Bruce heard approaching feet on floorboards, reminding him he wasn’t alone.

Reminding him just how hard this was going to be.

“You’re up early,” Dick said as he dropped down on the top step beside him. His voice was bright, cheerful. Bruce didn’t have to look to know the boy was grinning.

“So, why are we sitting on the stairs?” Dick asked. Bruce didn’t answer; Dick continued, unphased. “We’re not training today, are we?”

_Training._ After yesterday’s session, Bruce had given them a day off. But now, it sounded like a good idea. It sounded like normal. After a moment, Bruce nodded.

“Oh,” Dick said. “I must have forgot.” Bruce could almost feel the boy’s grin grow wider. “I’m gonna go wake Jason!” He bolted up and slid down the hall to Jason’s room. Bruce heard the ruckus from where he sat; a minute later, two sets of feet approached the stairs.

“I thought we had today off,” Jason grumbled. Bruce glanced up to see the boy’s face contorted in a yawn. “Whatcha doin’ here, Boss?”

Bruce didn’t reply, his eyes focused back down on the stairs.

“I think he’s just sitting,” Dick answered.

“Huh,” Jason said. “Why?”

“No idea,” Dick replied. Bruce closed his eyes as the boys continued to talk about him over his head. As if he wasn’t there.

He didn’t feel there.

“You think he’s lost it?” Jason asked. Bruce imagined Dick shrugging.

“Selina would know,” Dick said. Bruce opened his eyes. He stared down at the wood of the staircase, memorizing the grain.

“Well, I’m not waking her up,” Jason replied. “She is _unpleasant_   when you wake her up.” 

“She’s already awake,” Dick said. Bruce drew a shallow breath.

“This early?” Jason asked.

“The bed was empty when I went by,” Dick replied. “She must be downstairs.”

_They should eat,_ Bruce told himself. _They need to eat._

“Breakfast,” Bruce said. In a one swift motion, he was on his feet, heading down the stairs. The boys followed after him, sticking close like shadows.

His shadows.

“Yeah,” he heard Jason say to Dick under his breath. “He’s lost it.”

“Um, Bruce?” Dick asked as they followed him into the kitchen. His voice was careful now, cautious. Bruce didn’t respond, collecting the milk from the fridge, pulling cereal boxes from the pantry. He found a couple boxes of colorful, marshmallow-filled ones hidden behind the shredded wheat and granola. Bruce shook his head.

_She lets them eat such junk._ He frowned. 

Thinking about her was a bad idea. Back to breakfast.

“Where’s Selina?” Dick continued.

“Not here,” Bruce said. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded far away. He focused on lining up the boxes on the counter. _Why do we have so many types of cereal?_ It was excessive. And a waste of calories. _They’d be much better off eating something with more protein. Like eggs._ He made a mental note. 

“Uh, obviously,” Jason replied, leaning against the counter. “But where is she?” Bruce looked up at him, felt himself glaring. He tried to shake it away. This wasn’t Jason’s fault.

It was _his._

“Get spoons,” Bruce said, watching Jason’s eyes widen as he shared a look with Dick.

“We can pour cereal for ourselves,” Jason snapped, glaring back at him. “ _Where is she?_ ” 

Bruce looked up again, meeting Jason’s hard, blue-green eyes. Words didn’t come.

“She left,” came a soft voice. They all looked over at Tim, standing in the doorway to the dining room, rubbing at his eyes, still in his rumbled play clothes from the day before. After a moment, Bruce felt three pairs of eyes train on him. He nodded once in confirmation.

_Where does she keep the bowls?_   He should know this. Of course, it wasn’t as if he was often allowed in the kitchen.

Not that it mattered now. 

“She left?” Dick repeated. Bruce couldn't bring himself to look at him.

“What the hell would she do that for?” Jason asked.

“Language,” Bruce reprimanded, distracted. He finally found the bowls.

“Well, when’s she coming back?” Dick asked. Bruce didn’t look up, opening the milk and giving it a sniff.

It smelled fine.

“ _Is_ she coming back?” Jason pressed. 

Bruce didn’t have an answer. Tim stood in the doorway, not saying a word.

“Eat,” Bruce said, stepping away from the counter lined with boxes. “And be outside in twenty minutes.”

“Whoa, we’re not still training, are we?” Jason asked.

“Nothing’s changed.”

He felt the weight of their eyes, watching him as he left the kitchen.

  


* * *

  


That night in bed, Bruce stared at the ceiling, his head too full for sleep. He’d managed the day on autopilot, but the night brought everything back. The night always did. Darkness did nothing to distract him from his thoughts; the empty space beside him a constant reminder of what was gone.

Of what he’d been too blind to see.

He ran through every detail of the last two years in his head, over and over. His memory mocked him, replaying all the things he’d missed with a new, painful clarity.

The signs had been there. Bruce just hadn’t seen them.

He hadn’t wanted to see them.

Frustrated, Bruce pushed the thoughts away. He tried meditating to clear his mind. He took a slow, steadying breath, closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing, visualizing white space. Nothingness.

It was more difficult than usual.

The bedroom door creaked open, pulling him away from his poor attempts at meditation. The footsteps that entered were heavy, the sigh soft.

“What is it, Dick?”

“Nothing.” Bruce heard another sigh, the shifting of feet. “Can I hang out in here?”

“Yes.” A moment later, the bed creaked as Dick climbed into the empty space beside him. He crawled under the covers, settling in. Bruce turned his head, watching Dick bury his face into the pillow, breathing deep.

The scent of her shampoo lingered on the sheets.

He’d wash them in the morning.

Bruce stared back up at the ceiling, feeling Dick’s eyes on him. It should have been intrusive, but it wasn’t. The boy’s presence was almost comforting.

Then he spoke.

“So, we gonna talk about it?” Dick asked.

“No.”

Bruce heard Dick turn over to his side.

“Wouldn’t you feel better if we talked about it?” Bruce turned his head, raising an eyebrow. As his eyes readjusted to the darkness, he could see the outline of Dick’s face, the worried lines that crossed it. Bruce frowned. Dick shouldn’t be worried about him.

Worrying was _his_ job. 

“I’m fine,” Bruce told him.

“No, you’re not.”

_No, I’m not._ Bruce didn’t respond. 

“Talking helps,” Dick continued. “So, if you wanted to—”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, but—”

_“Dick.”_

The boy sighed.

“OK,” Dick said. Bruce could hear defeat in Dick’s voice. He hated the sound.

The room fell into silence. A few minutes later Bruce sensed someone else entering the room. Soft footsteps, barely there.

“Tim?” Bruce asked, which was all the invitation the little boy needed to run up and crawl into the bed, as he’d done several times before, during thunderstorms.

With Selina.

_Enough,_ Bruce told himself as he watched Tim settle in between him and Dick. Without a word, Dick wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, pulling him close. Bruce wasn’t surprised. Affection had always come easy to Dick. Certainly more than it did to him. Or Jason.

Or her.

_No,_ he thought, forcing her face from his mind. No good would come from thinking about her now. 

They needed him.

He didn’t have the luxury of shutting down.

Or running away.

Bruce took a deep breath, let it out slow. He looked over at Dick, who was staring off into space, a frown on his lips. It was out of place.

Everything was out of place.

“What is this, a party or something?” Jason’s voice echoed through the room. Bruce rolled his eyes. “Scoot over, Dick.”

The bed shifted as Jason crawled in next to Dick.

_Four beds in this house,_ Bruce thought, _and they all have to be in ours._

A heavy feeling settled in his chest.

_Mine,_ he corrected. 

It was just his now.

The room went quiet again. Bruce closed his eyes, savoring the silence.

It didn’t last.

Dick and Jason knew better than to argue out loud, but that didn’t stop them from kicking each other under the covers. First once, then twice. Soon, it deteriorated into a constant rustling of sheets and grumbles.

“Keep it up and you’re both sleeping outside,” Bruce said. They stopped.

“Bruce?” Tim asked, speaking up at last. Bruce opened his eyes, looking down at Tim. “Why did she leave?”

A thousand possible answers ran through Bruce’s mind. None of which he could say. He paused, searching. After a moment, Dick answered for him.

“We don’t know, buddy.”

“Has she ever left before?” Tim pressed.

“Nope,” Jason answered. Tim sighed.

“It’ll be fine,” Bruce said, loud enough for them all to hear. He caught Dick’s eyes. The boy stared back at him, nodding once, his lips curved in a sad smile.

On the other side of Dick, Jason scoffed. Bruce couldn’t see his face.

“How?” Tim asked. Bruce glanced down, meeting those wide eyes.

“It just will be.”

“You sure about that?” Jason asked. Bruce didn’t reply. The silence lingered. They were waiting for him, waiting for an answer. He was supposed to be the one with answers.

They _deserved_ answers. 

“Sleep,” he told them. They didn’t speak again. After a moment, Bruce felt Tim’s hand, reaching over, resting on his arm. Making sure Bruce was still there.

He was still there.

Bruce waited, sensing them shift and turn as they settled in. They filled the space that had been empty with tangled arms and limbs, made everything warmer, closer. Bruce turned back onto his back, stared up at the ceiling, listening to the varied sounds of their breathing, waiting until each one evened to a steady pace before he allowed himself to drift to sleep.

  


* * *

  


The next day, Bruce caught Jason in the kitchen eating peanut butter straight from the jar. He shook his head. The boy took a final spoonful before replacing the lid and putting the jar away with a sigh.

_They need real food._ Bruce frowned, wandering around the kitchen. He opened the pantry, the fridge, taking stock. He could feel Jason’s eyes on him.

Bread and cheese. He could work with bread and cheese.

“Wait, you’re gonna cook?” Jason asked around a mouth full of peanut butter. He eyed the frying pan Bruce pulled from the drawer. “Like with the stove?”

“Yes.”

“You sure that’s a good idea, Boss?” Jason asked. “Do you even know how?”

Bruce sighed.

“Yes.”

“OK,” Jason replied, climbing up onto the counter next to the stove. Bruce considered telling him to get down but decided to let him be.

Selina would have let him be.

“Whatcha makin’?”

“Grilled cheese.” Jason wrinkled his nose. Bruce ignored him.

“You need to butter that,” Jason told him a minute later, pointing to the bread Bruce was about to lay in the pan. Bruce barely looked up as he pushed the butter dish toward Jason and handed over the bag of bread. They assembled the sandwiches together, the sizzle of the pan the only sound between them.

Bruce had the strangest feeling the boy was keeping an eye on him.

“So, about Selina...” Jason began, breaking the silence. Bruce grunted but didn’t speak, focusing on the pan.

He wasn’t sure the bread was supposed to get that color. He poked at it with the spatula.

“Look, I get it,” Jason continued. “You don’t wanna talk about her, and that’s fine. I guess. Whatever.” Jason sighed. “It’s just...” he trailed off, hesitating. “B, how does this work if she’s not here?”

It was a very good question.

“I don’t know, Jason,” Bruce answered, shaking his head. “But it will.”

“Yeah, until you flake out on us too.”

That caught Bruce’s attention; he looked over, seeing tiny cracks in Jason’s street-tough mask.

“Have I ever given you a reason to think I would?” Bruce asked.

“No,” Jason admitted as he jumped down from the counter. “Then again, neither did she.”

Bruce watched Jason leave the kitchen. Bread and cheese burned on the stove in front of him.

  


* * *

  


The following morning, after breakfast, Bruce hunkered down in his office, sorting through the massive amount of Wayne Enterprises work he’d let pile up.

He’d been a little distracted.

For the three days, Bruce had focused on doing the only thing he knew to do: he kept the boys in their routines. They trained. They worked on their studies. They were in bed on time. As if nothing was different. As if nothing had changed.

Locked in empty, meaningless routines, life took on some semblance of normal.

But it wasn’t normal; there were changes that went beyond Selina’s absence. Bruce found himself more frequently ensnared in random hugs from Dick. He’d caught Jason watching him more, as if waiting for him to do something rash or unexpected. Tim stayed in plain sight, not once playing his game of hide and seek.

Things weren’t normal at all.

A knock on the office door pulled Bruce’s attention away from his work. There was only one person left in this house who knocked.

“Enter,” Bruce said, not looking up as he heard Tim come in, wandering up to the front of the desk.

“Bruce?” he asked, his voice soft. The boy always spoke so softly.

“Yes, Tim?” Bruce replied, eyes still focused on the laptop screen in front of him.

“Have I been good?”

Bruce looked up. Tim shuffled from one foot to the other, more unsure and serious-looking than any six-year-old had a right to be. Bruce frowned.

“Yes, of course,” he answered.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Bruce said.

“OK,” Tim replied. He sighed, wandering back out of the room, his shoulders slumped. Bruce watched him go, making a mental note to find him later. He wasn’t taking this well.

None of them were.

Pretending everything was the same wasn’t working, Bruce realized. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck.

He needed a new strategy.

He’d take them out of the house this afternoon, he decided. They’d go out and find something to do. Something new. Something distracting. They needed a distraction.

They _all_ needed a distraction. 

Satisfied with this new course of action, Bruce returned to his work, intent on wrapping it up.

After a little while, Bruce heard a commotion on the floorboards above him, then up and down the stairs. The tell-tale sounds of the boys up to something. A minute or so later, Dick’s dark head ducked into his office.

“Tim in here?” he asked, looking around. Bruce shook his head.

“Hiding again?” Bruce asked with a slow smile. This was a good sign, he told himself. Normalcy.

“Really well this time,” Dick replied, nodding. “We might need your help.”

  


* * *

  


It took Bruce less than a minute to decide that Tim was not hiding in the house.

Or anywhere around it.

Tim was not _hiding_ at all. 

Dick and Jason had run up and down the street; they’d knocked on every door on the block.

No one had seen him.

_Gone._ Panic crept up Bruce’s throat, but he slammed it down as that steady chill, his old focus, coursed through his veins. It pushed everything else down.

_Tim isn’t here. New plan._

The fog that had fallen across his mind the second Selina had walked out the door lifted. For the first time in days, his eyes were open, his mind clear. He was focused again. Focused on a single thought. A single course of action.

_Find him._

There was a time when Bruce would have taken care of this himself, taken the matter into his own hands without hesitation, but this wasn’t his city and he wasn’t that man. Not anymore. He wasn’t reckless enough to do this on his own.

This was too important.

Without a word, he reached for the phone.

“Calling Selina?” Jason asked. Bruce felt himself glare.

“The police,” he answered.

“Aren’t you _going_ to call Selina?” 

“No.”

“You should.”

“Go,” Bruce shooed him away just as the operator picked up on the other end of the line.

  


* * *

  


Bruce went looking for Dick and Jason to tell them he was on the way out—to help the police canvas the area—when he heard Dick’s voice, frantic and hushed, coming from Jason’s bedroom.

“He’s not here and we don’t—”

Dick stopped talking the second Bruce walked into the room, his mouth going slack. Bruce didn’t say a word, holding his hand out for the phone. Dick gave it to him. Bruce knew who was on the other end before he even recognized the voice.

“Selina.” It took him a moment to realize he’d said her name out loud.

“I’m—”

Bruce clicked the phone off. A reflex more than anything else.

He didn’t have time for distractions.

“If you're going to yell at anyone, yell at me,” Jason said before Bruce had a chance to speak. “I’m the one who called her.”

_Of course, they called her,_ he thought. _They need her._

_I need her._

Bruce shook his head, shook the thoughts away.

“Stay here,” he said. “If Tim comes home, call.” He tossed the phone back to Dick and left the room, heading down the stairs two at a time.

Her voice still echoed in his ears as he slammed the front door closed behind him.


End file.
